


The Nice and Supernatural Adventures of Aziraphale and Anathema Fell

by Tezca



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Inspired by Supernatural (TV), Light Angst, Rarepair, mention and tame description of a dead person's bones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26179507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tezca/pseuds/Tezca
Summary: Just another Tuesday in kicking ass and taking names. All part of the hunting life for a mad American woman with a bicycle and an eccentric English book lover.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Anathema Device
Kudos: 4
Collections: GO Events - Rare Pairs, GO Events NTA 7 - Rare Pairs





	The Nice and Supernatural Adventures of Aziraphale and Anathema Fell

**Author's Note:**

> I began watching Supernatural earlier this month and I just had to write a GO fic inspired by Supernatural for the latest Guess The Author event lol Im on season 5 now and it's still just as awesome as Good Omens!

“Oh dear, oh my dear Anathema do be careful,” Aziraphale fretted as he watched with an - almost - comical aghast expression. Anathema rolled her eyes as she shot him a glare, having just finished preparing a pile of old bones to be destroyed. 

Just another routine gig in their line of business. One that they've been in since they started dating in college. Much to the consternation of both of their parents, they didn’t stop when they got married, and they sure as hell weren’t gonna stop now. 

Unlimited restless spirits and malicious mythical beings meant they got lifetime job security and then some. Doesn’t mean the pay is good however, thank god for Anathema’s share of the family fortune. Protectors of Earth from harmful supernatural entities don’t exactly bring in the big bucks. 

Their current job had taken them to the Southern US on reports of a haunted mansion turned restaurant. It admittedly was a refreshing change of pace that the spirit in question wasn’t the murderous type. That said, the spirit very much did not like the fact that a business took up shop in his old...territory. So what an angry century and a half year old spirit to do when they don’t want to kill?

Take up the art of pranks of course. Which is what this dead soul did, but the problem was that the pranks - while harmless in nature - was detrimental to the business. By the time the Fells - Aziraphale and Anathema - had arrived, the customers had been slow going, no more than ten or so a day for the last month or two. 

“I didn’t realize I need to be trained in the art of pouring gasoline.” Anathema deadpanned. Aziraphale's immediate response was to shoot a mutual glare back, “Relax, we’re in a bricked up basement with a cement ceiling.” She pointed out matter of factly as she gestured with her free arm.

(They had discovered that there used to be a homestead on the property in the late 1880s. And as it was of the time, there was a family plot and the spirit was a man who had been buried there. Somewhere along the lines, the land had become devoid of any buildings and laid vacant until this smallish mansion was built in the 80s. 

As for the bones not being where one would think, well someone had found them and….simply forgot about them. There was a convenient fireplace nearby so they figured it would bring the least amount of awkward questions and bad impressions if they finished the job here.)

“Yes, but may I remind you that it’s summer and we are in Alabama and those stairs behind you are made out of wood. One lick from the flame and it very well quickly spread to the restaurant above!” Aziraphale exclaimed, his voice wrought with worry and anxiousness. 

A moment passed and Aziraphale took a deep breath to calm down, “I really do apologize for my worry dear Nat, I just don’t want a repeat of the Soho Incident.” He explained as he finally regained his senses and dumped the salt where the gasoline was. Which was basically over the whole pile.

“The books were saved, weren't they?” Anathema was still glad of that fact as much as Aziraphale was. She hated the thought of the destruction of rare grimoires and books of witch spells as much as Azirapahle did with books in general. 

“Yes but we are banned from the used bookstore for life in case you’ve forgotten. It was the only place I had as a teen to find solace from the world and now I can never go back.” Aziraphale mourned, his voice nuanced with a mixture of emotions. He eventually took a deep breath, “I do realize it is what it is and we have to be secretive but...” He let his sentence fade away as he sought to find the best words to put it in.

Anathema’s face fell into great empathy for him, “Look honey, I’m sorry it turned out that way but it sure beats risking the ghost of a psycho killer loose on London.”

Aziraphale nodded, he can agree with that at the end of the day. Even if it still stung him greatly that he wasn’t allowed in a place where he spent the majority of his teen years at. 

“I know.” Aziraphale warmly smiled as he kissed Anathema.

A moment later and the bones were set on fire. 


End file.
